


Private Emotion

by DatFreud



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cannibalism, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Abuse, Sexual Content, Slow Build, Trauma, Violence, background non-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-11-29 10:25:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11438922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DatFreud/pseuds/DatFreud
Summary: After a deal gone wrong, Yondu and Kraglin are thrown into a series of unfortunate events. They are forces to fight for their own survival while trying to find a way of this mess. In the meantime, some private emotions started to make themselves known to both of them, making it all a hell of a lot more complicated. As if the cannibals didn’t make it hard enough already.





	1. Chapter 1

Yondu hated this deal. Not only did he hate it, he loathed it with every fiber of his being.  His mind was screaming that it was wrong, that he shouldn’t make deals with the likes of Moveran. Moveran was a selfish and manipulating man. Not that Yondu didn’t also feature those traits, but at least he had some kind of compassion in him. Not much, but it was still there nevertheless. Moveran lacked that part completely. He only saw others as tools and toys for him to enjoy and nothing more. Something to be used and the thrown away. Normally Yondu would stay clear of him. But these were desperate times. They needed the money that Moveran offered. Their accounts were running low, and that was always a bad sign when you were dealing with a bunch of Ravagers. It incited conflicts and possibly even a mutiny. And since Yondu didn’t desire that kind of headache right now, he had had to swallow his own pride and dislike of the man, and make a deal Moveran about fetching, or more like stealing, some dumb item for him.

Yondu sighed as he looked out of the windshield in his M-ship. He looked at the approaching planet with a scowl on his face. Not only was Moveran a heartless, arrogant a-hole, he was also suspicious as hell. He had demanded that the exchange was to happen on some dumb planet on the outskirts quadrant. And what more, Moveran had demanded that Yondu came alone. Suspicious bastard. He had threated that if even one of his sensors registered the Eclector anywhere near the planet, the deal was off.  Yondu had been furious with the demands, but he still agreed, because he knew they needed the money more than Moveran needed the item. Yondu did, however, have one condition; his first mate was going to. It wasn’t because Yondu needed Kraglin’s help to finish the deal or navigated the four rock-filled planetary rings surrounding Posheron. He needed his calm presence to keep his anger and aversion at bay, or else he feared he might punch the sly smirk of Moveran’s ugly mug as soon as he laid eyes on him. Just thinking about him made Yondu’s blood boil. Moveran was everything Yondu hated all crammed into one person.

And yet, they still had a deal. Only because of the money, Yondu reminded himself. After Stakar’s banishment jobs had become hard to come by. Therefore, Yondu took whatever he could get his hands on. But that didn’t mean he had to like it. He watched as Kraglin maneuvered the ship past the floating rock and into the planet’s atmosphere. Below them, miles and miles of thick forest covered the ground. Here and there the green carpet split to make room for wide rivers, which spread out across the surfers like blue veins. Tall mountains reached towards them with their white peaks. All in all, it would have been beautiful if not for all the dark thoughts and worries that clouded Yondu’s mind.   

“Got Moveran’s coordinates ready, boss. Want me to take us down?” And looked towards his captain out of the corner of his eye. Yondu had been uncharacteristically quiet ever since they left the Eclector’s dock, which worried Kraglin. It took a lot to shut Yondu up, and whatever succeeded couldn’t be pleasant nor auspicious.   He wet his lips and brought the ship closer to the tree tops. Flying over them at high speed made them look like a big green ocean. He kept looking from the windshield to their radar and the back up again in order to find the exact location for the little meet-up. Even with all the trees and the hilly terrain, Moveran’s meeting point wasn’t hard to find.  The coordinates lead them towards the mountains and rocky hills, surrounded by deep blue rivers. Kraglin didn’t have to look at the coordinates to spot the meeting point, once they flew in closer. There was a clearing at the foot of a steep hill, though Kraglin felt mountain might be a better word it. At the edge of the clearing ran a river, its strong currents tore into the side of the mountain hill.  A big red tent was swaying in the wind on the top of said hill. Kraglin could easily guess who was inside. Kraglin cast a sidelong glance at Yondu, to check if he had seen it too.

Of course, he had. His whole body tensed at the sight and his eyes narrowed into small slits, glaring daggers at it. He knew Moveran was inside, probably surrounded by a bunch of slaves, busy massaging his feet, feeding, fanning him or sucking his cock. Yondu shivered involuntarily, suddenly glad that he had been sold to the Kree and not to Moveran. Not that being a battle slave had been easy, but in Yondu’s mind fighting for his lives and other’s entertainment, beat having to be used in every possible way.  Yondu forced his mind away from those dark thoughts, by focusing on the task at hand instead.

“What the hell?” he mumbled as his eyes took in the clearing and spotted to figures at the bottom of the hill. Yondu wrinkled his nose when he realized what it was. It was two young women, slaves by the looks of it. Both wore a fiery red loincloth and golden plates were covering their three breasts. Even from here Yondu could make out the bruises on their bodies. They stood out black and purple against the women’s pinkish flesh.  Yondu sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. This was going to be a long day cycle.

“Want me to take her down here or at the tent, Captain?” Kraglin asked and tore his gaze away from the women, who motioned for them to bring the M-ship down in the clearing. Kraglin looked at Yondu, waiting for him to make the decision. He couldn’t get eye contact because those red eyes were locked on the women. Was that pity in his eyes or had one on the planet’s suns played a trick on Kraglin?

“Nah, take her down here,” Yondu said and Kraglin obeyed right away and landed the ship in front of the women, careful of not getting too close the foaming water. Yondu took a deep breath and closed his eyes when he exhaled, trying to brace himself. When he opened his eyes once again the M-ship had landed and Kraglin was looking directly at him. Worry was evident in his eyes, and the look reminded Yondu just enough of pity that Yondu immediately showed all unnecessary unpleasant emotion into his subconsciousness where they belonged and plastered a big grin on his face.

“Showtime,” he said and the flashy smile showed most of his silver and gold capped teeth. If Kraglin noticed it was forced on, he was smart enough not to mention it. He simply stood up from his chair and followed Yondu to the ship’s rear hatch. Outside, the women had walked towards the ship and waited for them at the edge of the hatch. Sour bile raised in Yondu’s throat at the sight of the many marks covering the women’s bodies. None of them permeant, but all of them bore witness to rough handling.

“Moveran has waited for you,” both women said in sync, their voices too high for them to be comfortable for Yondu’s ears. Both women have their eyes pinned on him, which makes Yondu uneasy. Therefore, he walked past them, to escape their burning gaze and the tell-tale sign on their bodies, “Well, the wait is over now,” he huffs and he even tried to keep the disgust out of his voice. After all, it wasn’t the girls’ fault that their owner was a douchebag.

As he walked towards the path leading to the top of the hill, Kraglin had managed to catch up with him and now they were walking side by side. But not for long. Both women walked in front of the and cut them off. Yondu snarled and narrowed his red eyes when both women turned their attention towards Kraglin. He didn’t like that look, not one bit. It was far too cold and calculating like they were adding numbers in their heads instead of looking at a living being. Without thinking too much about the passiveness in his behavior, Yondu stepped in front of Kraglin, bringing himself between him and the slave women. That got their attention, and once again Yondu found himself at the receiving end of their dead stare.

“He is not allowed to come,” one of the informs Yondu, however before he had a chance to voice his protest, the other one speaks up. “Our master asked only for you, Yondu Udonta,” they both in the same voice and same tone. It made Yondu’s name sound wrong and unfamiliar. He almost didn’t recognize it as his own.

 “Your,” both women stopped and looked at Kraglin over Yondu’ shoulder, making the captain growl, “… companion is to wait here.”

“That wasn’t part of the deal,” Yondu hissed between his chipped teeth and took a step towards the scantily dressed women, straightening his back to stand as tall as possible. This right there was also one of the many reasons why Yondu hated Moveran. A dishonest man you can always trust to be dishonest. But Moveran was so much more than that. He was a businessman and a politician. He couldn’t be trusted with such things as trust nor distrust because you never knew what to expect of him. That made him unpredictable, and in Yondu’s book unpredictable equaled dangerous. He could feel his anger growing inside and how it lurked just beneath the surfaces, threatening to explode.

“You go tell your…” Yondu continued. His implant flared up casting a red light across his feature. He cut himself off when he felt the light pressure of a hand on his lower back. It rubbed small soothing circles which neither he nor Kraglin would acknowledge afterward. That right there was exactly why Yondu had insisted on taking Kraglin along. His touch made Yondu aware of the fact that he had already riled himself up completely. He welcomed the touch, and he allowed himself to let it be the only thing he focused on for just a short moment, to ground himself again. The two women, their skimpy outfits and even Moveran himself reminded Yondu way too much of his own time as a Kree battle slave and all those feelings of helplessness and hopelessness he had to endure during that time. He usually managed to keep the intrusive thoughts and memories at bay with his favorite defense mechanisms repression and distraction. But with all these constant reminders and cues, those defenses were not working, which meant there was nothing to stop his mind from lashing onto the reminders and dwell in the past. Without those defenses, it was hard for Yondu to keep the old memories separated from the here and now experience. The old terrors kept intruding, like loud warning bells in his mind, demanding his attention. But Kraglin’s hand against his back helped.  It kept his mind from slipping to much and it helped him stay grounded in the present, like an anchor. Without doing anything the touch assured him, that he was still alive and he was free. It enabled him to separate his private and his business life. That was the reason behind why the prospect of leaving Kraglin here worried him. He didn’t fear walking into a trap set by Moveran or feared the possibility of being outnumbered. He had experienced that countless times and still survived after all. He feared both losing his grip on the here-and-now as well as losing his temper and punch Moveran square in the teeth and thereby ruin their job and lose their money. Yondu closed his eyes and took a deep breath before he once again looked at Moveran’s emissaries.

“Look, ladies,” he said, this time he kept his temper in check, assisted by the hand on his back, “I only agreed to meet Moveran on this God forsaken planet if I had one of my men with me,” he explained slowly as if he was talking to a child. It didn’t do him much good.

“Moveran changed his mind,” like that was an acceptable excuse. Yondu was sure Moveran hadn’t changed his mind. This had probably been his plan all along. Yondu was willing to bet that Moveran saw it as a twisted form of power play, “You will be coming alone.” And apparently, that was the end of that. Both girls turned on the heels and started walking up the hill, clearly expecting Yondu, and only Yondu to follow. He didn’t. He wasn’t finished with this discussion at all.

Beside Kraglin, Yondu growled. It was both intimidating and alluring at the same time. Kraglin couldn’t quite decide which feeling was more dominant, but no matter what, the sound sent shivers down his spine. Out of the corner of his eyes, Kraglin saw how Yondu’s body tensed up and his jaw clenched. He was about to do something stupid. Kraglin could tell. He grabbed Yondu’s bicep before Yondu could see his plan trough. It was a move he only dared given that none of the other crewmembers were here to witness it. He swallowed a lump in his throat glared at Kraglin’s hand with his red eyes.

“Sorry, captain,” Kraglin muttered and released his hold on Yondu. He knew he was in no position to hold Yondu back like that and he may be held accountable for it later. Nevertheless, it had done the trick and stopped Yondu for jumping headfirst into a conflict the really don’t need right now. And that was worth the potential risk of scrub duty.

“It's just,” he continued in a clearer voice, but he still had great difficulty with findings the right words. He guessed having his captain glaring at him with those thrilling red eyes had that effect on him, “they seem to be really determent to have me stay here. I don’t think arguing is going to do much good.” he chose his words carefully. He wanted to reassure his captain, not make him angrier or even worse, make him feel like Kraglin was patronizing him, “the faster one of us gets up there, the faster we can get this deal over with,” he tried to smile, only a little bit. It was small and wary but it was there.

Yondu looked from his overarm to Kraglin. Deep down he knew that Kraglin was right. If Moveran had gotten into his thick head, that Yondu was to come alone, no matter what they had agreed on, then it was most unlikely that anything Yondu said would be able to change his mind. It might just even piss him off and make the situation far more complicated than it needed to be. Still, Yondu hated to be played like that, but no matter how much he hated the situation, both for personal and professional reasons, it looked like he would have to suck it up and get on with it. His features softened slightly as he threw his hands out in an open gesture, his best business grin plastered on his face, “you are right, Obfonteri. It’s just a quick in and out, what could go wrong?”

A lot, as it turned out later.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for the many comments and kudos, they mean the world to me. This fandom is really the best and gives me life <3

The hill was steep and with each meter they rose the breeze got even stronger. At the top, the wind was practically howling and tore at their cloth and at the big, luxurious tent. Now that Yondu was able to get a closer look, he could see the golden patterns woven into the bright red fabric. The tent stood near the slope, leading down to the roaring river. Yondu looked back over his shoulder, only to Kraglin’s lanky figure down in the clearing. He stood exactly where Yondu had left him. That little display of absolute loyalty made Yondu smile. He couldn’t make out Kraglin’s features from up here, but he could imagine the knitted brows, vigilant eyes glaring at the hilltop and how Kraglin’s whole body would be tense like a coiled spring, ready to leap into action if Yondu needed it. Like a loyal dog, ready to serve. Yondu chuckled to himself at the comparison, finding it rather fitting actually.

Kraglin had always stated by his side, no matter how bumpy the ride turned out to be, and no matter how much he disagreed with Yondu, which he only dared to voice in private. The first few times it happened Yondu had been surprised by the fact that Kraglin dared to question his captain’s orders or decisions. He had yelled at him back then, and even threatened to whistle if Kraglin ever dared to pull that shit again. But Kraglin had stood his ground and voiced his opinion and even dared to suggest an alternative solution. Even though his whole body had been tense, Yondu had seen a deep profound trust in those blue eyes. Like somehow Kraglin had been completely sure that Yondu wouldn’t hurt him. And he had been right. Yondu knew loyalty when he saw it and knew that it was worth so much more than respect based on fear or reputation.

In the end, Yondu had agreed to listen to what Kraglin had to say, without holding his arrow at the pulse point. And if Kraglin had seen how Yondu later followed his advice, he didn’t comment on it. Over the years Yondu had grown quite fond of their private discussions and disagreements. He even looked forward to them, he would never admit this out loud, though. Over the years he even started to encourage Kraglin to speak his mind, seeking his opinions and advice. Only in private of course.  Only in private could they find the necessary trust in each other to lay down their titles and meet each other as equals. Well, almost equals. Yondu was sure he would ever trust someone enough to completely let go of the power and control (and thereby safety) which followed the captain title.

“This way,” the women guided him with their high-pitched voices, leading him away from the edge and the calming view of his waiting first mate. They walked towards the tent’s entrance in silence. Two male slaves stood on each side of the tent curtains. Both A'askavarians Yondu noticed and shivered involuntarily at the sight of their many tentacles. How somebody could find that species attractive, was a mystery to him. But each to their own, he guessed. Both men, or at least Yondu assumed they were men, took hold of the heavy red curtains and pulled them to the side.

The smell of sweat, expensive perfume and something else Yondu didn’t want to name hit him in the face as soon as the inside of the tent was reviled. The awful smell stung his eyes and filled his nose in a way that made him want to gag. The two women didn’t appear to mind the stench. Yondu figured that they either didn’t notice it or had gotten so used to it that it hardly bothered them anymore. At least two dozen slaves of various genders and species occupied the inside. All were completely naked, exposed to the eyes of whomever Moveran choose to invite into his domain. Some of them were holding plates filled with different food and drinks, others were placed on big piles of red pillows kissing and caressing each other with empty eyes. Bile rose in Yondu’s throat and his breathing quickened without his permission. When he walked inside, Yondu tried damn best to keep his eyes away from the enslaved creatures and locked on his target. Morveran sat in the middle of the tent in a big golden throne, draped red and yellow clothing. The two, now overdressed, slave women walked past Yondu to stand on each side of their master. And as Yondu had predicted one of them picked up a tray with fruits and berries which she occasionally fed Moveran.

Yondu stopped with a good distance still between him and Moveran. The smell of sex and despair was sickening enough already without Moveran’s stench added to the mix, which Yondu was sure would turn his stomach completely.

“Moveran,” Yondu greeted with a measured nod. He was talking to the man with the money, after all, therefore some courtesy was required. He couldn’t afford to blow this up, no matter what his instincts told him.

“Yondu!” Moveran greeted back in a far too cheerful tone, which made Yondu narrow his eyes. He didn’t like the way his name rolled over Moveran’s lips like they had been lifelong friends, “finally” he added in a deep sinister tone and tipped his head back. The well-trained slave immediately placed a riped berry on his waiting tongue.   Moveran’s smile grew wider as he followed Yondu’s gaze to the slave, only to look back at him with calculating eyes, much to the Ravager Captain’s discomfort.

“See something you like,” he then asked, playing all innocent, but the look on his cold eyes told Yondu, that he knew exactly what he was doing. Yondu hated the fact that his discomfort was written clearly on his face for Moveran to read and exploit.

“Of course, this is my private collection, but if you see something which suits your fancy, then let me know and I might be able to provide something similar, ”  Yondu didn’t miss how Moveran kept saying something, not someone. Yondu had experienced that kind of objectification on his own body and knew how hearing it enough times, almost made the words seem true. Even know it still hurt to hear and made him lower his head in a conditioned-response. He clenched his fist and dug his nails into the skin, leaving small half-moon marks in an attempt to keep his hands from shaking.

“Or I can have one made,” Moveran said and gestured to the back of the tent. Yondu followed his line of sight but he immediately wished he hadn’t. his insides turned and his stomach felt like it had been filled with lead. Along the red canvas sat four heavily pregnant women, all with a golden chain around their necks, with their hands resting under and above their big bellies. As the rest of the slaves, they were in the nude. The sight tore at Yondu’s heart. Even him, with his lack of sentiment and basic morals, could see that what had been done to those women was wrong on so many levels. Pit and fear hit him like big waves beating against the shore. His mind could easily provide him with terrifying images of what could have happened if he had ended up with a guy like Moveran instead of the Kree. He pressed down on his pouch through the many layers of leather, just to make sure, that it really was empty. For just a second he was sure could feel something move under the thin skin, something unwanted and forced, until his mind lost its hold on the terrible what if scenario and settled back in the here and now.

“Enough talking,” Yondu snapped and tore his gaze away from the poor creatures, “I came here to talk business.”

“So have I,” Moveran cut in with a snarl, “but clearly I am the only one taking this seriously,” all friendliness was gone from his voice, leaving behind a cold and dangerous tone. The accusation forced a growl from Yondu and he lifted his coat just a tiny bit to the side, giving his arrow a free passage just in case Moveran tried anything.

“And what in the hell is that supposed to mean?” Yondu snarled at the slave owner, bearing his gold and slicer capped teeth. Yondu’s anger level could be measured by his voice. He growled, a low rumble in his chest when he was annoyed or agitated. He yelled when he was mad. But when he was furious, he became completely silent. He was almost yelling right now, but his anger level rose at an alarming rate, and he knew that it wouldn’t take make to push him to the final level, and when he reached that point (yes, it was a matter of when and not if), he knew there was no going back. He just hoped the transaction had been made before shit hit the fan.

“I have slaved for this damn battery,” Yondu said raising his voice with each syllable, “lost one of my men too,” he added with a snarl and approached Moveran, no longer caring about the choking stench, which seemed to surround the man like an ever present mist.

“And alarmed the Sovereign. That was not the distraction I asked and would have paid for. You got impatient and restless, Yondu,” Moveran retaliated and stepped off his throne. Once standing he looked much bigger than Yondu remembered him, but it would take more than that to intimidate him. He had reached his final anger state and gone quiet, glaring daggers at Moveran. Moveran’s accusing tone and his lecturing word had reopened a wound, Yondu had thought healed long ago. They reminded him too much of the time he spent locked away in a cell under the Kree battle arena. All battle slaves were locked away under the arena until it was their time to enter the ring. Yondu had spent countless hours in the darkness listening to the sound of battle above and the cries of despair below. He had spent most of the time treating his wounds. Some from battle, others inflicted by his ‘sponsors’ who had put money on his victories in the arena. They would come down to the pit to lecture him after every close call in the battles. You are too reckless, too impatient they would yell at him as they whipped his bare back, adding to the pile of scars of scars, hoping it would make him more careful next time. But it did not, it only made him angrier and more determent to stay alive.

Yondu’s mind began swirling around in the dark memories, causing the old scars on his back to burn with phantom pain. When Moveran’s lips moved again, Yondu wasn’t sure if the words really originated from him, or if they came from the past, echoing in Yondu’s head.

“Now the entire Sovereign fleet will be looking for that battery,” Moveran’s lips were moving so the words must be real and not just Yondu’s imagination or memories, “therefore making them far more trouble than they are worth,” Moveran moved towards Yondu, only stopping when they were inches from each other.

Both sensed the tension in the air. It hung thick and heavy like a storm cloud. And just like before a storm, there was silence. Deafening silence. They both glared at each other, none of them willing to back down. Around them the slaves started to fidget, glancing nervously between their master and the blue guest.  Even the two cold women who fetched Yondu looked anxious, despite having looked like petrified figures during most of the exchange.

“What are you saying?” Yondu asked. His calm voice was hiding an inner Inferno, waiting to break loose, “are you walking out on our deal?”

“No. I am simply suggesting a slight change in the conditions.”  Yondu didn’t like the sound of that. Not one bit. He clenched his fists even hard. His nails dug into his flesh, drawing small droplets of blue blood. “One-quarter of the original prices,” Moveran said, his tone clearly stated that it wasn’t up for discussion.

It wasn’t Moveran’s insane proposition that made Yondu lash out. It was everything surrounding it. The tone in which it had been said, the haughty smirk and the whole general aura of power imbalance. It made Yondu fell like a trapped animal. Just like back then. His mind slipped and brought him back to the dark cells under the fighting arena.

His fist connected with Moveran’s raw before Yondu even registered he had moved without his conscious consent. For a brief moment, Yondu had forgotten about his arrow, still present at his waist, but forgotten by the mind. In the dark pit fists and kicks had been his only way of defending himself, and therefore a well-aimed a right hook had been his first choice. He could hear screaming around him, but he couldn’t determine where it came from. It sounded muffled like he was hearing it under water. Yondu’s eyes saw the slaves move around him, but his brain didn’t register the sensory input. It was too preoccupied with the intruding ghosts from the past. Behind Moveran (was it really him or was it someone else, someone from long ago, who came with a whip and accusing words?)  one of the slaves reached under the big red cushion he was seated on and retrieve a small odd-looking gun. Instead of a magazine, it had long glass cylinder filled with a thick yellow substance. Without Yondu noticing it, the slave aimed the weapon at him.  The strange gun was silent when it fired, no blast, no smoke, nothing. The only evidence was the thick goo covering Yondu’s mouth. Yondu’s red eyes went wide when the goo hardened completely and made it impossible for him to tear it off, but that didn’t stop him from trying. But no matter how hard he tried, the goo stayed where it was.

The feeling of being gagged made panic rose inside Yondu. His heart rate sped up and his breathing became shallow and labored. Long forgotten and repressed memories rose to the surface of his consciousness and threatened to make him remember and relive for real. The dark cells. The screams for all around him. The burning pain from the whip lashes across his already abused back. The long bloody wound stretching from the top of his head and all the way down his spine to his tailbone that had yet to heal. Or had it healed long ago. Yondu couldn’t tell anymore.

The sudden overwhelming pain, which threatened to rip his shoulder apart came from the present. That much Yondu was sure. It rippled through his entire being, creating the perfect anchor for Yondu’s mind to hold onto.

Moveran had turned tail and ran, hiding behind a living shield of slaves, which he deliberately had placed between himself and Yondu. He was heading for the back of the ten where and escape route undoubtedly waited for him. Yondu pulled a small gun from the holster at his hip and took aim. His shoulder screamed in pain when he moved his arm. Blue blood had already soaked through his shirt and started to drip onto the ground.

No matter how hard he tried he couldn't get a clear shot, there was always an innocent head blocking his way. With an inner curse, he lowered his gun. He wanted Moveran dead or at least badly hurt, but the risk of accidentally killing one of the slaves was too great. Normally Yondu didn’t give too much thought to unfortunate casualties, but the poor enslaved creatures, forced to play the role of a living flesh shield reminded him too much of his past self. He knew their helplessness. Killing them would feel like killing a part of himself. An unwanted part, but a part nevertheless. It would make him no better than a slave owner.

The slave (or maybe a guard in disguise?) who had shot the goo-gun had risen to his feet along with two others, both armed with real blasters that could do some real damage. Yondu glared one last time at Moveran, as the man disappeared behind a red velvet curtain before he turned around on his heels and ran towards the exit as fast as he could. He zigged zagged between the many slaves as he made his way out. Some of them were hiding in horror, others attempted to grab hold of him, properly to please their master. He had knocked over several of them when he finally reached the two curtains marking the exit.

The sun hurt Yondu’s eyes when he emerged from the tent. From behind him, he heard gun shots from the battle slaves/possible guards and knew he had to keep going. He had completely forgotten about the two A'askavarians but was reminded when one moved to capture him, and the other moved to cut him off from the descending path. Behind the hardened Goo Yondu smirked, even though it tugged unpleasantly at his stubbles. If the thought that was going to stop him, they were terribly wrong. After all, the path wasn’t the only way down.

Without any hesitation Yondu sprinted towards the edge of the cliff, hoping to Anthos his spatial intelligence hadn’t deceived him. When he jumped off the edge he barely avoided the blast shot from somewhere behind him. Yondu closed his eyes against the strong winds and less than five seconds later water closed itself around him, and the strong current carried him away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are deeply appreciated <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everybody. Here is another update for you to enjoy. We got kissing in this chapter, yay!  
> And credit to Write_like_an_American and part-time-ravager (RedRarebit) for Kraglin’s anatomy and home planet. They are really amazing, and if you haven't already, I suggest you go check them out

The wait was painfully long and made Kraglin tense up with apprehension as the seconds ticked by. But despite the constant feeling of uneasiness, Kraglin stood his ground and waited with his eyes fixed on the hill, like he was told to do. He swallowed a lump in his throat when Yondu disappeared past the red curtains and out of Kraglin’s sight. Kraglin didn’t like, not being able to see Yondu nor those around him, it held the possibility that if something were to happen up there, he would know of it too late to be able to react in time. Not that Kraglin doubted his captain's abilities to take care of himself. Kraglin had seen Yondu take out dozens of men with a single whistle to his arrow, therefore Kraglin was more than certain that Yondu could handle himself in a fight. But this was so much more than just a simple fight between criminals or rough tumble with Klyn guards. This ran so much deeper than simple fights, this was up close and personal. Kraglin knew that. He knew that it was the reason why Yondu had bargained with Moveran for permission to bring someone along with him. He knew Yondu needed someone he trusted to have his back, but now that he was stranded down here, Kraglin was unable to fulfill that need.

Kraglin shifted his weight from one foot to the other, biting his lower lip nervously as his imagination fed him countless of less favorable what if scenarios. He had known something about this deal was rotten the moment Yondu had commanded him to come along. He had heard it in Yondu’s voice and seen it in the way his implant flared up in agitation. But he hadn’t said anything, just followed Yondu, as he always did. Right now, he felt the worry and the suspicion in his gut. It was like a constant reminder of the gravity of the situation at hand. Even though Kraglin didn’t have much of a choice, he still felt bad for leaving Yondu alone with a snake like Moveran. He would never speak of such sentiment though and thereby risk being at the wrong end of Yondu’s yaka arrow. It had been his captain’s choice, and Kraglin would have to respect and trust that, not matter what his gut told him.

His stomach turned when he heard the first blaster shot and worry swelled inside him, making his whole body fell heavy. Something had gone wrong, and Kraglin wasn’t there. He needed to be there. He would never be able to forgive himself if something had happened to Yondu while he stood uselessly on the sideline. He snatched his own blaster, ready to fight and protect, however before he even reached the patch, leading to the hilltop, something caught his eye. A glimpse of blue skin and worn red leather. Kraglin let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. His captain was still alive and kicking. Thank Thanos.

The relief didn’t last long. Kraglin’s blue eyes widened when he saw the silhouette of his captain storming off towards the edge of the cliff. Yondu couldn’t be serious, even he wouldn’t dare to make that jump. Or at least Kraglin thought so.

Kraglin couldn't keep the terrified "NO!" in that escaped his mouth without his permission or consent. For a second he didn't know how to function, how to think or even move seemed like an impossible task to him. In the confusion, he didn’t know what was right or wrong, therefore he ended up following his instinct and ran. He ran towards the river bank, sick with worry and his eyes fixed on the gray and brownish water surface, desperately looking for a flash of blue. He didn’t know whatever to look at the river banks or in the water and therefore deciding on both. The current was strong, but Kraglin had known Yondu long enough to have seen him fight off bigger forces of nature than a bit of water, therefore he might had been able to fight his way out of the water. But even if Yondu had managed to get out of there on his own, so many things could have gone wrong. He could've broken a couple of bones or Moveran’s men could have shot him during the drop.  He could be dead.

Kraglin ran even faster, even though his lungs burned and screamed for oxygen. He ran faster because he couldn’t bear the thought of losing Yondu because he didn't know what to do without him because it made him feel empty and alone. His mind didn’t have the chance to dwell on such dark thoughts for too long because right then he saw it. A body clad in red leather floating face down along the river, following its movement. Kraglin stilled and stared when the body floated past him, unmoving, choked by the realization, that he had been too late. Some stubborn part of him refused to accept that, and that part forced his brain to restart and made him move with determination.

“No!” Kraglin roared as he ran towards the river bank and without any hesitation, he jumped in. The water was freezing and soaked Kraglin’s cloth, making him shiver within seconds. He swam as fast as he could, desperation taking over his limbs. They moved faster and faster and more and more uncoordinated as he fought the current and dragged his body over to his captain. No, Yondu was more than his captain. Yondu was his friend. Properly his only real friend, who he truly trusted. When he finally reached Yondu and turned him around, he noticed how Yondu’s mouth had been covered by some strange material. Kraglin snarled and tore at the material to remove it, but it stuck stubbornly to the blue skin. When it finally came off it was with bits and pieces of skin stuck to it.  Kraglin made a face of disgust and threw to offending goo away and then pressed Yondu’s back hard against his chest, making him able to swim with his legs while keeping them both afloat. Yondu’s eyes were closed and Kraglin couldn’t feel him breathe. There was no pulse nor any red light in the implant. And what made it worse was that he knew that he couldn't do anything about it out here in the middle of the river.

“Don’t you dare die on me now, Captain, ” Kraglin warned in a hoarse voice and began his fight back towards dry land. His heart was pounding in his chest, his ears ringing from the exhaustion and the splashing water. None of that mattered though because Yondu wasn't breathing. Because he wasn’t arguing with him or threatening to whistle him through for holding too tight. He was just lying still, like a lifeless doll. It wasn’t supposed to be like that.

“Breathe, stars damn it!” Kraglin yelled and kicked Yondu under water during one of his swimming motions, hoping that it would bring some life back into the Centaurian, maybe even make him mad enough to yell at him. Kraglin could give anything to hear that hoarse voice right now.

It felt like an eternity before Kraglin managed to get his friend out of the water. He was completely out of breath, exhausted and panicked, but all those things had to wait. Right now, Yondu not breathing was the only thing which mattered. Kraglin managed to roll him onto his back by his shoulders. When he retrieved his hands, one of them came back covered in blue blood. Oh no, no, no. This was bad. Not only was Yondu not breathing, he was also hurt. Panic tore at Kraglin and threatened to cloud his mind and obscure his thinking. He couldn’t let that happen. His captain depended on him, he had to keep his head cool. One issue at a time. First, he needed to get Yondu to breathe again. And only after that should he worry about the wound.

Panic made his chest feel tight, but Kraglin focused on the task at hand. He needed to get the water out of Yondu’s lungs and replaced it with air. Therefore, he placed both hands on Yondu’s chest and began pumping. He had forgotten how many times he was supposed to pump or what rhythm to pump in, but he tried as best as he could.

“Come on,” he spat and pumped even harder, trying to keep count but failed, leaving him with nothing but his instinct to determine when to move on to the breathing part. He moved down and brought his lips upon Yondu’s. They were cold, too cold and unmoving. Kraglin could feel the remains of the dried up goo against his skin. He breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth, filling Yondu’s lungs with air and thereby making his chest rose. But as soon as Kraglin pulled away, the movement stopped, confirming Kraglin’s fears. He still wasn’t breathing.

“Come on, you blue bastard,” he snarled through his pointed teeth, anger and fear fully rushing over him and making him pump even harder. This couldn’t be happening. After everything they had been through together, it couldn’t be real that something as simple as a bit of water would be the thing, that took his captain away from him. They had spent so many years by each other’s sides, that the thought of suddenly standing alone was more frightening than anything else Kraglin could imagine.

 Kraglin had met Yondu during a very bad period of his life, therefore joining an outlawed group of space pirates had seemed like a better alternative than staying on Hrax. Growing up on Hrax had been tough but it had taught Kraglin how to survive, but also not to trust anyone. Back ‘home’ (if one could even call it that) if someone was nice to you it always meant that they wanted something from you in return or just wanted to take advantage of you in some way. Therefore, Kraglin had learned never to let his guard down, a skill most useful when living with the Ravagers. Yondu had been the first person he truly trusted, and as the years had gone by, mutual trust had turned into something resembling affection. Kraglin came to care for the blue brute and soon found himself seeking Yondu’s company and his praise. He had never dared to push his affection beyond that of simple friendly touches and warm smiles when they were alone on bridge or plotting in the captain’s quarters. He knew Yondu’s views on sentiment, which had been voiced many times in the past, and more importantly, he knew of Yondu’s aversion of intimacy. It had never been said out loud, but Kraglin had noticed how Yondu refrained from physical contact with most of his crew, relying on words when giving praise and his arrow when threatening. And when they made port in some far of quadrant of the galaxy, Yondu had never sought out the company of the locals, like many from the crew did. Only when there were bot hookers available, who could be programmed to act and look like whatever you wanted, did he seem interested. At first, Kraglin hadn’t thought much of it, but over time the pattern became more apparent. Kraglin suspected it had something to do with Yondu’s past as a slave, and therefore out respect for Yondu, both as a friend and as a captain, Kraglin didn’t point it out or pushed his own feelings onto the captain, and risk losing their valued friendship. Like he was right now

"Breathe!" he yelled as loud as he could, right in Yondu’s face, something he only dared to do because he was becoming more and more desperate by the second. He leaned back down and crashed their mouths together to breathe more air in his friend's lungs. Despite how hectic and life threatening the situation was, there was a part of Kraglin that was suddenly aware of the fact that their lips were touching, of course only for the purpose of saving Yondu, but still.  Although his heart skipped a beat at the sudden intruding thought Kraglin kept his mind on his task.

Everything hurt, but none of that mattered because after what felt like the thousands pump Yondu’s fin finally flared up and he started coughing up water. Kraglin looked back down at him with wide eyes, chest heaving from the effort of having to run, swim and then breathe for two people at once. he let out a relieved and exhausted laugh, and hung his head low, closing his eyes and focused on the feeling of Yondu’s ragged breath against his face. The relieved facial expression turned into one of pure shock when the cold blue lips clashed against his own once again and Yondu fisted Kraglin’s dripping jacket in his hands and pulled him closer towards him.

\---

Yondu was totally confused. One second he was fighting for his life in the water, trying to reach the surface and breathe in fresh air, then there had been darkness, overwhelming darkness threatening to drown him in its nothingness, and suddenly Kraglin had been there, first his voice and then his touch. It all came back to him at once. Moveran, the slaves, the gag and the jump. It made his stomach turn and his pulse race with anger. It all came back to him, Memories, both old and new, flashed before his retina in one confusion and uncomfortable inferno. Yondu felt like he couldn’t sort out the thoughts in his head or even control them. He needed something to anchor himself to, in order to stay in control.

Yondu reached for the only coping strategy available to him right now. He reached for Kraglin and clung to him tightly, digging into his first mate’s bony shoulders. Because his mind was still clouded from muddy water and past traumas he didn’t give it much thought when he pressed his lips to Kraglin’s, or at least that was the excuse Yondu held onto for the time being. He moved his lips against Kraglin to chase the taste of him and the sense of familiarity and safety it brought with it. It was weird as fuck, and Yondu knew himself well enough to know that he was going to mentally slap himself for that move in about a minute, that he was going to pretend nothing had happened, probably give Kraglin a good beating if he ever dared mention it. But right now, the touch and the taste reassured him that the darkness had only been caused by murky river water and lag of oxygen, it wasn’t the same darkness he had gotten to know so long ago.

The kiss was sloppy and nothing but desperate. Yondu didn't have a clue what he was doing or what he was supposed to do. But they were both running on adrenaline, so none of that really mattered. Yondu buried his hand in Kraglin’s hair and yanked it hard, in an attempt to make things less tender and weird.

Kraglin had other plans. After the overcoming the initial shock of being kissed by Yondu, he returned the kiss. Although they could hardly call it one. It was a clacking of teeth and biting. It was rushed and frenzied, born out of circumstances rather than want. He tried to slow Yondu’s frantic movements down by slowly placing his hands on top of the blue ones, currently clenching his jacket tightly. Carefully, he rubbed small circles into the skin with his thumb, and to his surprise, his friend actually responded the more gentle gesture and calmed down a bit.

“Surround the ship and search the river!” they heard someone yell somewhere close by, and just like they were back to normal. The broke the kiss and wiped both muddy water and spit from their lips, while both stumbling to their feet. When Kraglin extended a helping hand towards Yondu, the captain slapped it away immediately.

“I’m fine. Don’t need your help,” he mumbled and rearranged his coat, looking anywhere but at Kraglin. Instead, he focused on pressing his hand against the wound in his shoulder to stop it from bleeding. He didn’t miss how Kraglin looked at the wound and bit down on his lower lip, looking like he was weighing options in his mind. There was no need for that. Yondu had already chosen for him, and he damn well expected Kraglin to step down and follow Yondu’s lead. He smiled in satisfaction when a quiet yes captain left Kraglin’s bruised lips.

“Good,” he praised Kraglin’s obedience and patted him on the shoulder,  “Now, let’s split before those bastards get a chance to corner us.”

Once again Kraglin nodded and answered with a yes captain, this time a bit firmer than before. He knew it would be pointless to argue with Yondu right now. Firstly, because once Yondu had set his mind on something, there was very little to do to change that. Secondly, they didn’t have time to worry about blood loss and least of all arguing about it. A point emphasized by the sound of voices closing in on them. Therefore, Kraglin refrained from protesting or fussing over his friend. He followed closed behind Yondu as they made their way down the river, seeking cover in the tree line. He had his blaster out and ready, ready for the trouble that was undoubtedly coming their way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you guys think?  
> You know I love hearing from you all!! <3


End file.
